


Just Once

by Lumina_Solaris



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Gen, Irondad, Irondad&Spiderson, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-10 21:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumina_Solaris/pseuds/Lumina_Solaris
Summary: Just once, Peter Parker would like to have a normal field trip.Just once, Tony Stark would like his history of weapons productions and the aftermath surrounding it all to not come back to bite him in the ass.Unfortunately, people don’t always get what they want.





	1. The Announcement

"Kid."

Peter glared down at the damaged web shooter in front of him, narrowing his eyes as he prodded once more at the release, concluding that there was a chance this one wouldn't be salvageable. 

"Kid." 

He flipped it over, examining the exterior damage again to check that he hadn't missed anything. His wrist twinged with the movement, but the slight pain was ignored - it was hardly the worst injury Peter had suffered during his time as Spider-Man. Honestly, the damage to one of his web-shooters was much more of an annoyance than a bruise that would be gone by morning, anyway.

"Kid!"

"Huh?" Peter exclaimed, head jerking up and to the left to look at the man leaning against a perpendicular desk. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had one dark eyebrow hiked up in what appeared to be a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Oh! Hi, Mr. Stark!" Peter glanced back to his web-shooter, setting it back down on the metal workbench in front of him. He then returned his attention to the man who had apparently been trying to get his attention for who knows how long. "Sorry. I was a bit focused, and I didn't notice you."

Tony gave him a _look_. "Aren't you supposed to have heightened senses? And you didn't hear me? You'd think someone like you would be on constant alert."

Peter frowned. "Normally, I am. I'm just… tired, I guess," he said with a slight shrug, looking down. 

Peter wasn't about to explain to the man that another factor contributing to his zoning out was that Peter, on levels he didn't tend to think about, recognized himself to be in what he considered to be a fairly safe environment. If anything were going wrong, he'd know due to his Spidey senses, and, even without that, Karen or F.R.I.D.A.Y. would be sure to alert him.

"How long have you been in here?" asked Tony. 

"Um…" Peter's eyes flicked over to a digital clock a couple of surfaces away from him. 1:34. When had it gotten so late? Or so early? "...about two hours."

Tony made an exhaled "humph" sort of noise before saying, "Uh-huh. F.R.I.D.A.Y., how many days this week has the kid gone out on patrol?"

A crisp Irish lilt answered, "Mr. Parker has utilized his suit on all five evenings of the week so far, Boss."

Tony nodded slightly. "Thought so." He looked down at the web-shooter lying innocently on the metal work table. "What are you doing here, Pete? You have school tomorrow." He paused and frowned before correcting himself. "Today. Whatever. You have school. If part of the suit gets damaged, you let the A.I. let-"

"Karen," Peter supplied, and Tony would normally be somewhat exasperated about being interrupted - even though he had no qualms interrupting people, himself - but he was used to the kid's apparent need to verbally vomit at frequent intervals by this point. Tony wasn't sure when, and he wouldn't admit it if asked, but, at some point, the trait had gone from being mildly annoying to endearing.

"Right," Tony continued breezily, "you let _Karen_ let me know, and I fix or replace the piece." Tony gave Peter a strange look. "Why didn't your… _Karen_ inform me that one of your shooters was damaged?"

Peter's brown eyes shifted away from Tony's, not meeting his gaze. "I, um… I may have told her not to bother you with it."

Tony frowned in petulance. "You can't just do that. Can he do that?" Tony asked.

"Mr. Parker has been given leeway, under your own instruction, to determine if damage to the suit is minimal enough so as to not require alerting you," responded F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Tony appeared to be slightly taken aback. "When did I do that?"

"Approximately six months, two weeks, and three days ago, Boss."

Tony scowled slightly to himself. "Well, amend that. Anything that interferes with the primary functionality of the suit shouldn't be considered minor."

"Will do, Boss," the A.I responded promptly, and Tony nodded to himself before turning his attention back to the kid, who had been regarding the interaction between the man and his artificial intelligence without comment. 

That was weird. Tony looked the kid over, noting the bruise on his wrist, the scratch on his left cheek, and, most importantly, the darkened skin under his eyes and the apparent heaviness of his eyelids. 

"Go home, kid. You obviously need sleep. I'm surprised your aunt hasn't been interrogating me about why you aren't back yet."

Once again, Peter avoided eye contact, and he didn't respond, even though he knew the reason his aunt hadn't been worried. People didn't tend to worry over someone when they were under the impression that said someone was asleep a couple rooms over. And Peter felt guilty. He did. May had set an eleven o'clock curfew, and Peter _had_ returned from patrolling by then. He'd even said goodnight to May, who had been curled up on the couch, eyes half-mast and fixed lazily on the TV, where some show Peter didn't recognize was playing. She'd looked up at him, slightly more awake, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the TV, and she had responded with a soft smile and a, "'Night, Peter. Sleep well." He'd made his way back to his room, where he had left the window open, pushed a pillow under the blankets on his bed in case May decided for some reason to check in on him while he was "asleep," and carefully crawled out of the room. Normally, he stuck to the curfew, but how was he supposed to patrol the next night if one of his web shooters was busted? 

It had taken him quite a bit longer to make his way from the apartment to Stark Tower, where F.R.I.D.A.Y. had let him in. Having only one functional web-shooter made things more difficult, but he had still managed.

“Kid?”

Peter actually did look up, now, at the hint of concern in Mr. Stark’s voice.

Mr. Stark stared at him for a second before declaring, “Yeah, I’m gonna call Happy and have him take you home.”

“Mr. Stark, you really don’t need to-”

“Kid, I’m pretty sure you just zoned out, there. Between having one shooter down for the count and the fact that you look like you’re about to pass out all over my worktable, you’re clearly not fit to be spidering all the way back to your apartment, so I really don’t want to hear it.”

Peter stared for a couple of seconds, and Tony would have thought that it was some sort of battle of wills until the kid blinked slowly and pulled himself up from the chair, reaching out to gather his stuff.

Tony cleared his throat as Peter’s hand went for the busted web-shooter, and Peter’s hand halted, his eyes once again meeting Tony’s as the man said, “Leave it.”

“But-”

“You can drop by after school tomorrow to pick it up. Seriously. I don’t know how you are going to stay awake during your classes." Then, Tony's tone changed, becoming more exaggerated. "What a shame. Wouldn’t want to miss the announcement.” Then his brows furrowed. “Actually, I’m not sure when they’ll make it, but it’s gotta be soon, right?”

With confusion, feeling slightly more awake, Peter started to ask, “What announcement?” but Mr. Stark cut him off and shooed him out of the room with a, “See ya tomorrow, kid!”

Tony Stark was not surprised when, about 45 minutes later, Happy Hogan - who called to complain about how he “has no kids and still ends up driving one around all the time,” and that he “didn’t sign on to work for SI just to be some glorified soccer mom” - informed him that Peter Parker had fallen asleep and slept through pretty much the whole ride back to his apartment.

* * *

(the following day, at Stark Tower)

“Boss, there is an incoming call.”

Tony paused what he was doing for a split second before continuing. “Bit busy, here, Fri,” he said, spinning the hologram schematics 180 degrees and zooming into the shoulder section of the projected armor, removing the outer layer of the pauldron with a flick of his hand. “If it’s Pep, tell her I know and that I’ll be there by 7:00.”

“Your meeting is scheduled for 6:00, not 7:00,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. supplied.

“Yeah, 6:00. Right. Tell her I’ll be there and that she doesn’t need to keep interrupting me.”

“I will be sure to do that if Miss Potts calls,” the A.I. responded with what sounded like amusement to Tony. Sometimes she had such an attitude.

Tony hummed to himself under his breath, muttering, “Who is it, then? Rhodey?”

“The incoming call is listed as being from Bertram Hindel.”

This time Tony actually did pause his movements.

“Hindel? How is he calling? I thought his number was blocked.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice was smooth. “Mr. Hindel was informed, as requested, that he will no longer be working as an attorney for Stark Industries. Normal dismissal procedures have been followed. I’m not sure how he got your personal number.”

“Is the call still actively ringing?” Tony asked distractedly, as he returned to his work.

“Yes.” If F.R.I.D.A.Y. had a head, Tony imagined she would have been nodding as she said that. “Would you like me to decline it and add the number to the blocked list?”

“Got it in one.”

* * *

(Midtown School of Science and Technology, last period)

“I want these unit conversions done by the beginning of class on Tuesday. You guys have the whole weekend and Monday to work on these, so I don’t want any excuses,” Mr. Cobbwell announced, looking directly at Chris Buongiorno as he said the last bit. Chris sunk down into his seat ever so slightly. 

Peter had been having difficulty paying attention in his classes that day, and Ms. Warren had already made a comment during physics about it, asking if he was alright, which had been a bit embarrassing. Thankfully, he had never really struggled with chemistry, so he doubted the homework would give him any trouble. Though, it was a bit weird, Peter thought, glancing at the clock, that Mr. Cobbwell was giving them the homework so early. They still had about 20 minutes left of class.

“And, last, but not least,” Mr. Cobbwell said, drawing Peter’s attention to the front of the classroom, “As the teacher of your last class of the day, I have the responsibility to set aside a portion of your allotted class time to inform you of an upcoming field trip-”

At this, the class broke into murmurs, including Ned, who turned to Peter and questioningly said, “I thought the MoMA trip was months from now?”

Peter shrugged to his friend, and Mr. Cobbwell raised his voice above the din and loudly repeated, “-to inform you of an upcoming field trip, made possible by the September Foundation.”

Peter’s heart dropped, and suddenly he felt very awake. There was an inkling of dread worming its way through his mind.

Mr. Cobbwell continued, “These are the permission slips; take one and pass. If you want to go on the field trip, you have a week and a half to turn the slips in, and you’ll need a parent or guardian to sign. The last section of the slip only needs to be filled in if you have a family member who wants to accompany as a chaperone, but they have to be over the age of 25 to do so.”

Sally spoke up. “Mr. Cobbwell, you haven’t said where the trip is going to be.”

Peter heard another kid, who went by Tiny for some reason, joke to Flash Thompson, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the September Foundation has nothing to do with the Museum of Modern Art,” but Peter didn’t think anyone beside himself, Flash, and maybe a couple of kids near him heard it.

Mr. Cobbwell looked over to where Sally was sitting. “Yes, Ms. Avril, I was getting to that. If you have to ask something, please raise your hand.” With that, he turned his attention to the class as a whole. “As I was saying, and as you’ll see on the permission slips, in four weeks, we will be taking a tour of Stark Tower.”

The class burst into chatter, and Peter wanted to drop his head onto the desk in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I have some plans for this, but I'm not super concrete yet. I've read so many field trip fics that I wanted to try it out myself, but I absolutely adore plot, so I had to have some of that, too. Not sure when I will update, though knowing that people would like me to continue is always a good motivation, so let me know, if you have a moment.
> 
> I have written fanfic before, but it was on fanfiction.net. I'm not sure if I should post the fic I have over there over here, as well, as it has been like five years since I touched that one. :/
> 
> Let me know if anyone is off or if there needs to be any corrections on here. I didn't have a beta for this.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Love,  
Lumina


	2. In which Peter gets told multiple times that he looks tired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, some parts of this story are just going to do whatever they want to, without any planning from me.
> 
> Let me know if you feel well-versed in the MCU and would like to act as a sort of sounding-board for me. I'm looking for someone like that - not necessarily for grammar, but to tell me whether something works or not and stuff like that.

Stark Tower. 

They were going on a field trip to Stark Tower. 

Peter stared down at his desk in a daze that was only broken when Ned elbowed him, exclaiming in a half-whisper, "Dude, did you hear that?" Then, not even giving Peter time to answer, though the question was rhetorical, he barrelled on, "This is so cool! Like, I know you go to the tower all the time, but I never really get to go or see anything cool, and you could totally show me around! Do you think they'll make us all stick close together or let us actually, you know, look around at stuff?"

Peter shrugged and looked back down at his desk. Ned's smile dropped. "Dude," he whispered, "are you alright?” His voice quieted even further. “Is it one of those sensory overload things?" He glanced to the front of the classroom, to where Mr. Cobbwell was leaning against his desk, letting the students chatter away some of their excitement. "I could tell Mr. Cobb that you're sick and help you to the nurse's office."

Peter shook his head. "No, Ned, I'm fine. But thanks." He gave his friend a small smile that didn't fully reach his eyes. "It's just… well. I don't know. I don't have a good feeling about this field trip. I know most people don't believe the whole intern thing, and I-"

Peter's words were cut off by Mr. Cobbwell. "Okay, okay," he said loudly, pushing away from his desk to stand centered in the front of the class, waving his hands about like he was patting the air. "I get that you guys are excited. I would be, too, I'm sure. But I do have some things that I’m required to explain before you guys all head out, so if you all would settle down so we can get through this, then you all can chatter until the sun goes down."

Ned sent Peter a worried look, and Peter mouthed the word "later" to him, and the other boy nodded his head, content with the fact that he would get an explanation after class.

“As I said, you have a week and a half to turn in your permission slips. We’ll need to have submitted them to Stark Industries two weeks in advance of the trip. In addition to having your parent or guardian sign it, you’ll need to list any health concerns you may have. If you need to speak to me after class about any accommodations you may need, please feel free to do so.” Mr. Cobbwell flipped the page of an extra permission slip, holding a page up for the class to see. “The light blue page attached to the permission slip is for you to keep, since it has the schedule for the day included. We will be departing thirty minutes after the school day begins, so it is important that you not be late, since we’ll be boarding the busses in advance...”

As Mr. Cobbwell continued to drone out the usual field trip spiel, Peter put his elbow on the desk, propping his head up with a hand as he stared over to the windows. Obviously, this was the announcement Mr. Stark had been talking about right before he booted Peter out of the lab. How long had the man known about this? Peter sincerely hoped that he would not see Mr. Stark on the tour, or that, at the very least, if he did, that the man wouldn’t single him out. The last thing he needed was for his classmates’ suspicions to be raised.

Peter shifted his gaze back to Mr. Cobbwell, who was, miraculously,  _ still  _ talking.

“... been asked that you wear closed-toed shoes, because we will be visiting some of the R&D labs. Wear clothes that are comfortable but appropriate. If you bring any bags with you, we have been forewarned that they will be checked upon entering and before departing the building, so don’t bring anything questionable with you, please. We will depart SI at 2:00. Any students who do not obtain permission to go on the trip will stay behind with Coach Wilson. Does anyone have any questions?”

A girl near the front of the room, who had been scribbling furiously on a notebook for the entire duration of Mr. Cobbwell’s monologue, raised a hand into the air. Mr. Cobbwell nodded to her with a, “Ms. Vanoff?”

The girl, Tori, glanced down to her notebook and back up at the teacher. “Um… could you repeat the last half of that?”

Mr. Cobbwell walked over to the girl, picking up her permission slip and folding it to the second page, which he put in front of her. “Should all be right there,” he said, nodding down to it. 

“...Oh. Thank you.” 

Peter could just barely see the blush creep up her cheeks from where he was sitting. In front of him, Peter could hear the supercilious, “psht. Predictable,” that came from Flash, who was slouched slightly back in his chair and looking over at Tori with a moderate sneer. 

"If no one else has any questions," Mr. Cobbwell stated, "then you are free to chat until the bell, though I always have to recommend getting a head start on your homework when you can. More free time and less worry later." With that, the man moved to his desk and sat down, retrieving a folder out from his drawer, which he opened, pulling out a moderately thin stack to start marking.

Ned, who had been consistently glancing over to watch Peter as the teacher had been talking, was quick to lean his weight and scoot his chair haltingly closer to that of his friend's. He locked his eyes on Peter's expectantly and waited. 

"Um," Peter started awkwardly. He looked around, but no one seemed to be paying the two friends any mind - most of the other students were too busy chattering away to each other, with a couple exceptions, who appeared to have actually taken Mr. Cobbwell’s advice and started on the homework for the weekend. He turned his attention back to his friend, who, upon catching on to what Peter was doing, had also done a quick sweep of the classroom to make sure that they were relatively safe to talk. 

Ned had gotten a lot better at subtlety, and Peter was thankful for it. In some ways, Peter thought that the revelation of the Spider-Man secret had brought the two friends closer, and not just in a “shared trauma leads to stronger bonds of friendship” way. It was more like his best friend had become more perceptive, which could be both a good thing and a bad thing. 

“Like I said,” Peter started quietly, “I just… something feels off.” At this, Ned’s eyes widened. “Not like that!” Peter rushed to say. “It’s more like, general anxiety, I guess. Just this low-key sense of dread. Maybe it’s because I don’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to field trips.” 

Ned looked thoughtful. “It’s only been two field trips, though, right? Nothing happened on that symphony one in fifth grade, remember?”

Peter nodded and looked down. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”

Ned snorted. “With your past, I think that’s understandable.” He relaxed his shoulders a little and leaned just a bit closer. “Look, you look super tired, dude. Maybe you just need to relax,” he said with a small shrug. “We haven’t hung out, like, at all this week. We should just hang and watch some movies, or, hey, I still have that Star Destroyer Lego set from my birthday! We could start that!”

At this, Peter gave his friend a real smile. He was about to respond, but he didn’t even manage one word before the bell for the end of the day rang.

“Remember,” Mr. Cobbwell announced loudly over the shuffling of bodies all moving at once to gather bags and make their way to the door of the classroom, “unit conversions by Tuesday, and permission slips by the following Wednesday!” At the chatter of students, which had lessened a bit as the dark-skinned man gave his reminder but had quickly rose once again following it, he said, “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, and enjoy your weekends!”

Ned, who had quickly shoved his chair back into place at the sound of the bell, stuck close to Peter as they trailed after the conglomeration of students funneling out through the door at the front of the classroom. 

“So,” he said, nudging his friend lightly with his arm, “my place?”

Peter shook his head. “I told Mr. Stark I’d stop by the tower to pick up my other web-shooter.”

Ned’s happy expression dropped for a split second before he went out of his way to mask his disappointment, but Peter saw it, anyway, and he felt an invisible weight sink down in his chest. Here Ned was, being an awesome friend, and Peter hadn’t even hung out with him in over a week because he had been too busy, between Spider-Man, school, and studying for the academic decathlon. 

“We could probably hang out after that, though?” He offered, and he was relieved to see the glimmer of actual happiness enter his friend’s eyes once more.

“Yeah, sure!” Ned exclaimed, and Peter noticed with a small bit of amusement that there was a slight bounce to his step. “I’ll explain the whole field trip thing to my mom while you’re at the Tower, I guess.” 

They reached Ned’s locker, and he paused. “Do you think we could convince your Aunt to be one of the chaperones? Like, I know she can hover sometimes, but maybe having her there could help with the anxiety thing? I don’t know.”

Peter didn't respond immediately. Did he really want May to go with them to the Tower? The fact that Flash would be there, likely employing his "special" nickname for Peter was already one strike against that idea. And, yeah,  _ maybe _ having his aunt there could help with anxiety, but what if it turned out that his anxiety was warranted? He really didn't want May anywhere near danger, but, if she saw the chaperone section of the permission slip and got it in her mind that she should go, he knew that he wouldn't be able to bring himself to lie to her about his reasoning for why she shouldn't go. If he pulled the, "I'm Spider-Man and can handle stuff, but you are a normal human and might get hurt," he'd just get a lecture. If he fed her the, "having my guardian come would be too embarrassing" line, it would lead to her feelings getting hurt, because he had never had any problems with her or Uncle Ben chaperoning in the past, and he winced internally at just  _ imagining _ the face of disappointment and hurt that she would make before she would inevitably brush it off and pretend it wasn't a big deal.

"I guess it's really up to her," Peter eventually responded. 

Ned nodded. 

The two probably would have continued chatting if it weren't for the fact that they had to head out. With an assurance from Peter that he'd text his friend once he was back from the Tower and a, "Later, dude!" from Ned, they parted ways.

* * *

When Peter entered the lab, Tony was waiting for him, which Peter took to mean that F.R.I.D.A.Y. had warned the man ahead of time that he was on his way up. 

"Hey, Pete," the man said jovially. "Got the web shooter all fixed up." He placed said device on the table in front of him, nudging it a bit toward Peter before relaxing back into his chair.

Peter picked it up and examined it, gratefully declaring, "Thanks, Mr. Stark!"

The man simply hummed and looked the teen over. "You know, I'm pretty sure that a growing teen, even one with weird spider powers, is supposed to get more than, what? Three hours of sleep a night?"

Peter stared at Mr. Stark. Didn't he hear Colonel Rhodes ribbing the man the last time they had all been in the same room about how the billionaire had a terrible sleep schedule? 

He pointed this out to Mr. Stark, who pursed his lips and gave a haughty, "Do as I say and not as I do!"

Peter sent him a skeptical look before bringing the web-shooter closer to his face to examine so he didn't have to look the older man in the eyes as he brought up the topic that had been nagging at his mind during the entirety of his trip to the Tower. "So," he started, "our chemistry teacher announced a field trip today."

"Called it!" Mr. Stark announced. "Didn't I call it, Fri?"

"If by 'called it,' you mean you questioned yourself about the announcement having to be coming soon, then, yes, Boss, you certainly 'called it.'"

Tony scowled, staring off at nothing in particular indignantly. "See, that's strange. I don't remember creating you just so you could rain all over my parades."

"You didn't need to, Boss. From your history, you've never needed any help when it came to 'raining on parades,'" the AI supplied in a straight tone.

"Have you been conspiring with Honeybear on how to bruise my poor ego?" the man asked, sighing dramatically.

"Of course," F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded, apparently playing along. "Colonel Rhodes and I are sure to correspond at least twice a week, behind your back."

Tony looked imploringly at Peter. "You see what I have to deal with?"

Peter just grinned. 

"So," Tony started, pulling out a Starkpad from under his desk (did he just keep those things everywhere?) and beginning to tap away at it, "the field trip. What do you think?"

Peter awkwardly dug his foot into the floor. "I mean, don't get me wrong, sir, it's really cool, but you're not just doing this because I'm Spider-Man, right?"

"Of course not, kid! We're doing these tours with all of the magnet schools and even some of the private schools around here. We're trying to show first-hand the types of technology we're developing here at SI, so the next generation can get a feel for the type of stuff they may be helping to develop in the future, if they decide to work for us. Or, at least, I'm pretty sure that's what Pepper said."

"Oh," said Peter a bit awkwardly. "I guess that makes sense." He looked around the room. "Is the tour going to see these labs?"

Just then, Tony suddenly sat up straight, looked down at his tablet, and said, "Shit, kid, I gotta go!" He vaulted out from his chair and started a swift walk to the elevator, tossing a, "See yourself out, kid, alright?" over his shoulder as the elevator door opened. 

And like that, the man was gone. 

Peter just shook his head a bit and gathered his stuff before heading out.

* * *

When he entered the apartment, May was already there, chopping up carrots on a cutting board, but she paused and looked up at the sound of the door to see him enter.

"Hey," she greeted. "You're a bit late."

"Yeah," Peter agreed, "I had to go pick something up from Mr. Stark's." He made his way over to the couch, where he plopped down his book bag and started to rifle around in it.

"Hey!" May said sternly, and Peter froze, darting his gaze up to meet his aunt's. "You," she said, pointing the knife at him from across the room, "are staying here tonight, got it?" She then looked down at her hand, which was pointing a weapon at her nephew, albeit from across the room, and she frowned, setting it down. She then grabbed a towel from beside the cutting board and wiped her hands, her eyes traveling back to her nephew, who was watching her a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Because that look didn't scream "I totally did something I shouldn't have done" at all. 

She pushed the thought onto the back-burner. Whatever he did, she'd figure it out. She already had suspicions, anyway.

"No patrol," she continued. "You need to rest. Don't think I don't see the bags under your eyes."

At this, the young man relaxed a bit, and she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. He was definitely guilty of  _ something _ .

"Okay," Peter agreed, too easily. "No patrol."

She stared at him before slowly saying, "Alright."

Peter shrugged and pulled some papers out of his bag. "I told Ned that we could hang after I got back," he said easily. "Is that okay?"

May nodded. At least that explained why he had acquiesced so quickly to staying in for the evening, despite it being a Friday, which he usually insisted was "one of the busiest days for Spider-Man, May - I can't just sit at home!"

"I'm making chicken and dumplings, so tell him to come over here," she said.

"Okay," Peter agreed as he made his way over to her. "Here," he said, handing her a couple of pages stapled together. 

"What's this?" She asked, retrieving her reading glasses from the counter. 

"Apparently we're going on a field trip to Stark Tower," her nephew explained, "in about four weeks."

"You're kidding!" She looked down at the page in front of her, scanning through the text quickly before flipping the page. "Chaperone…," she muttered under her breath. She looked up from the page to her nephew. "What date did you say it was?"

"Friday, four weeks from now," he said, taking the pages out of her hands, flipping to the front, and pointing to the date listed near the top of the page. 

She shuffled through the dates in her mind before landing on that week. "Oh," she exclaimed with a pout, "that's the week where Susan's going on that trip with her husband! I told her I could cover her shift on Wednesday and Friday, since she covered for me that time I got the stomach flu, you remember?" She frowned. "I guess there isn't really any way for me to chaperone," she mumbled, biting her lip slightly. 

Peter nodded. "That's alright. It's just Stark Tower, anyway." He fidgeted a bit nervously and shrugged. "It's not like I haven't been there before."

"Mmm-hmmm," agreed May. "You tell Stark to behave himself. I have Pepper's number, and I'm not afraid to use it!"

This seemed to shock Peter. "Pepper," he repeated to himself and looked at her strangely. "When did you guys get on a first name basis?"

May sent him an offended look. "Excuse me, Mister! Am I not allowed to have friends?"

Peter seemed to backtrack at that, and she laughed, causing a smile to ease onto his face.

He walked back over the the couch, where his backpack was sitting on the floor. "I'm gonna call Ned, okay?"

She just smiled. Then she remembered the deer-in-the-headlights look he had given her earlier, and she hummed slightly to herself. Whatever it was that he had done, she'd figure it out. Neither he nor Ben had ever been very good at hiding their facial expressions when caught unaware. It had been one of the first things that she had noticed about Ben when she had met him - you could almost read what he was thinking from the expressions that would come across his face.

Thinking about Ben sent a pang through her chest, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or cry. So, instead, she focused on the food she was preparing, idly listening to her nephew chatter to his best friend on his cell phone. 

She straightened her posture. Ben may not be there, but she had Peter, and she was going to do her damnedest to make sure that he got all of the support that he would need, crazy superhero life or no. She'd be there for him for as long as he would let her be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one wasn't too exciting, but I'm happy with it, anyway. I'm trying to get a good feel for each of the characters. Hopefully I'm doing a decent job - it's been a while since I've written anything. :P
> 
> MJ isn't in the story yet, but only because she has chemistry at a different time than Peter and Ned (and Flash). 
> 
> Also, it should be noted that Peter can totally fix his web-shooters on his own. He just really needs some sleep, so Tony gave him a hand.
> 
> Let me know if you feel well-versed in the MCU and would like to act as a sort of sounding-board for me. I'm looking for someone like that - not necessarily for grammar, but to tell me whether something works or not and stuff like that.
> 
> If you enjoyed the chapter, please feel free to let me know. You could tell me what you liked, or what you didn't like, or just your general thoughts. I usually like to read them. :) Or, hey, if you just want to chat, I'm a talkative person, and I love meeting new people who share interests! Sometimes chatting with people about a subject can really make me want to write more about it. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you are enjoying it, so far!
> 
> Love,  
Lumina


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